


habits of my heart

by tusslee



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Friends With Benefits, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Lack of Communication, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sexual Content, but nothing horribly explicit, eventual confessions, happy ending bc im w e a k, only minor angst tbh, these boys i stg, undefined relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 07:36:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10635261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tusslee/pseuds/tusslee
Summary: Keith swallowed nervously, afraid to ask what it was Lance wanted, but his mouth was ahead of his brain, “Whatdoyou want then?”“You. All the time. In every sense. It’s insane.” Lance said with a laugh that sounded a little manic. “I want to hold your hand and shit. I want to justbe near you, like some love-sick girl, but I think that’s what I am. I think I fucking love you, holy shit.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Habits of My Heart - Jaymes Young 10/10 would recommend

It started at the Garrison when Lance was still “that infuriating pretty Spanish speaking boy” to Keith and Keith was “the hot, hot-headed emo douche” to Lance. Lance got under Keith’s skin almost as bad as Keith got under Lance’s and it all came to a head when someone snuck a bottle of rum into Lance’s shared room with Hunk. 

It’d been collectively decided that their room was the gathering place for their small group of friends, many who remained nameless the same way Keith had at first, but they still hung around if only to be included and feel maybe not so lonely. Lance couldn’t tell you who began passing the bottle around, but it made its rounds, touching just about everyone’s lips except for Pidge’s who Lance swiped the bottle from before he could even think about it. 

Time seemingly dragged as they exchanged stories and theories about what the future held. The only thing Lance’s muddled thoughts could focus on was Keith, who had placed himself neatly beside Pidge on Lance’s bed of all places. Keith had horrible hair and no sense of style. Fingerless gloves were so not cool, but somehow Keith still managed to look cool. Lance hated to admit that to himself and would definitely not ever say something like that aloud, until he did.

Keith wasn’t stupid much to Lance’s disappointment. He was in fact fairly smart if not up to date with common slang and recent trends. So, Lance couldn’t make up an excuse fast enough when Keith crossed the room and stood in front of him, staring down at him like Lance had called his name or something. Lance saw his mouth move, but didn’t hear a damn thing he said. “What?” He asked dumbly, making Keith’s frown deepen.

“I _said_ ,” Keith squatted down until he was eyelevel with Lance, hands still tucked in his jacket pockets, “why have you been staring at me all night? If you’ve got something to say to me, just say it.” 

Lance couldn’t weasel himself out of this one because he’d been very obviously ogling Keith for the better part of the last hour. There was nothing he could say, offensive or otherwise, that would give Keith the impression Lance _didn’t_ want to kiss him silly. So he smiled lazily, liquid courage inflating his false confidence just enough for him to bat his eyelashes innocently and say, “You’re hot, a guy can’t appreciate that?” Keith’s eyebrows shot up and his cheeks colored beautifully, but he didn’t snap at Lance or tell him he was disgusting so Lance kept going, “Your stupid gloves,” he mumbled then reached for Keith’s hand until Keith got the hint and pulled it from his pocket.

“What about my gloves?” Keith asked, eyes dark and entirely focused on Lance. 

“I like them. I like them _a lot_.” Lance apparently didn’t have to explain much further because Keith took the hint. Lance watched him stand from his squatted position, dark jeans looking a little tighter than they’d previously been. 

“Come on.” Keith said as he jerked his head in the direction of the door. Nobody around them paid them any mind except for Hunk who shot Lance a warning look before Lance slipped into the hallway after Keith. 

“Where’re we going?” Lance asked as he trailed behind Keith.

“Shut up.” Keith hissed then shoved Lance against a door, “You can’t just stare at me all goddamn night and say shit like that, Lance!” He said lowly, face only inches away from Lance’s.

Lance swallowed down his nerves and cocked his head to the side, raising an eyebrow, “Why not?”

Keith set his jaw, teeth grinding audibly, then the door behind Lance vanished and he fell into the room with Keith right behind him. Keith steadied him with a hand fisted in his jacket as he kicked the door shut. “Because,” he started, spinning Lance and shoving him toward the bed, “I can’t jump you in a room full of people.” Lance watched Keith shrug out of his jacket, letting it fall to the floor before he kneeled on the bed. 

“You don’t have a roommate.” Lance noticed. 

“Nobody wanted to room with me.” Keith said, hands coming to rest on Lance’s shoulders as he sat himself in his lap.

“I can’t imagine why.” Lance breathed. Keith was even prettier up close, eyelashes long and thick, hair falling just right in his face. He still smelled like rum, but Lance was sure he did too. 

“Exactly how much do you like my gloves?” Keith asked, watched Lance’s hazy blue eyes flicker to his hands before he swallowed.

“Wanna find out?” Lance offered, giving Keith the only opening he needed to close the gap between them and kiss Lance liked he’d been dreaming about. Lance tasted like rum and something sweet, something addicting. It was uncoordinated and wet, but desperate and so, so good. Lance’s fingers dug deliciously into Keith’s hips, urging him forward and down. Keith groaned, a sound that Lance echoed with one of his own. Lance was hot and Keith just wanted more of whatever he’d give him. 

Keith shoved Lance’s shirt up until Lance got the hint and pulled it over his head. Keith’s hands were on him then, still gloved and running eagerly over flawless, golden skin. Lance hummed, his eyes fluttering closed when Keith’s fingers danced along the waistband of his briefs that peeked out from jeans. Lance whined as Keith unbuttoned his jeans, lips finding a home on Keith’s neck. As nice as it felt, Keith didn’t let it distract him from his goal and he only just barely managed when Lance murmured, “keep the stupid gloves on,” against his throat. 

Eager to please, Keith did just that as he pushed Lance’s jeans and briefs far enough down his hips to free his cock. Lance’s forehead fell to Keith’s shoulder the second Keith got his fingers around him. “You owe me a new pair.” Keith mumbled then kissed Lance again. 

It was sloppy and messy, entirely rushed and over far quicker than either of them probably would have liked. Keith had ruined briefs and ruined gloves to show for it, neither of which he was very happy about, but Lance looked at him like he was the only thing that mattered so it was hard to be angry. “Nice work, Mullet.” Lance grinned crookedly at Keith as he stood and pulled his pants back on.

Keith rolled his eyes, “Fuck off, Cargo Pilot. Go back to you room.” Lance frowned at him, but Keith just shook his head, “Should have pegged you for a cuddler. Good night, Lance.” He said as he steered Lance toward the door. 

Lance caught Keith before he could really be thrown from the room and kissed him sweetly, “Good night, Keith.” He smirked then skipped down the hallway out of sight.

They didn’t talk about it and it didn’t suddenly make them friends. If anything, Keith pretended Lance didn’t exist while Lance created some rivalry between them. When it happened again a week later, they still didn’t talk about it. It just kept happening. Lance would corner Keith in the bathroom. Keith would drag Lance back to his room. It was always rushed, always desperate, and always over too fast. It never progressed further than mutual hand jobs and a failed blowjob on Lance’s end, but that was more than enough for both of them. 

So they didn’t talk about it and it kept happening, until it stopped. With the disappearance of the Kerberos Mission crew, which included Shiro, Keith disappeared too. Lance only heard rumors, but Keith was gone. It was a bittersweet thing that was only eased because Lance got bumped up to fighter class. What had started out as something lust driven and meaningless turned into something more somewhere along the line because Lance’s chest ached and Keith never left the back of his mind. 

It picked up where it left off two weeks after they’d found the Blue Lion. Lance cornered Keith on the training deck, wholly ready to give him an earful after the stunt he pulled back at the Garrison when they first found Shiro, but his hurt showed when his voice cracked with the question, “Did you really not recognize me?”

Keith chewed on his lip as he tied his hair back out of his face. Lance’s opinion on mullets changed right then as he stared at Keith. “I did. How could you think I didn’t?”

“Why did you say that then?” Lance demanded.

“I panicked. I hadn’t seen you in months and all I really wanted to do was kiss you.” Keith admitted almost shyly. 

Lance huffed a laugh then swayed forward, hooking a finger in the collar of Keith’s shirt to yank him closer, “Should have just kissed me.” He said before doing just that. 

It started up again. They sought each other out after training, or late at night when they were both restless. It was just as desperate as before if not more so after certain missions. The first time Lance came out of a healing pod it took everything for Keith to keep his hands to himself until later when they were alone. “You scared the shit out of me.” He murmured into Lance’s shoulder that night when they lied pressed close together. 

“Sorry, Red.” Lance mumbled, already half asleep. Keith didn’t have a name for the overwhelming feelings that were quickly finding a home in his heart, but he had a pretty good guess of what they could be and he didn’t like it one bit. 

Lance noticed the change immediately. Keith stopped coming to him and only followed along when Lance instigated something. He didn’t know what it meant, only that it scared him because Keith was pulling away and becoming distant. They hadn’t defined anything between them, but Lance was sure it was more than just an easy way to get off, or it was for him at least. Maybe Keith didn’t feel the same. Maybe Keith was just going along with it to make Lance happy. Maybe it didn’t mean anything at all.

Keith couldn’t say no to Lance. He didn’t ever want to anyway. Lance was always a nagging thing in the back of his mind. His body was so attuned to Lance’s touch, to his scent, to _him_. Everything about him drove Keith mad, turned him inside out, and ruined him. Nobody else in the universe could wreck him so thoroughly and make him enjoy it the whole time. 

The longer they stayed in space, the harder everything became. Keith could handle responsibility, but even this was a little much. He hadn’t signed up for the Defender of the Universe title, he’d only wanted to fly, but here he was. He had nothing else anyway, he figured, so he threw himself into training and took on the role given to him. His only solace was Lance, but even that was becoming more difficult to deal with.

It was no secret that Lance was painfully homesick. Keith couldn’t blame him; Lance had a family. It was understandable, but Keith couldn’t sympathize and he couldn’t find any other way to make him feel better other than going along with what they’d started forever ago. 

Some nights the only thing Lance did when he showed up at Keith’s room was cry. Keith had never seen him cry before so the first time it happened he sat stiffly with Lance clinging to him, ‘I’m sorrys’ whispered between broken sobs. Keith didn’t understand, but he didn’t ask questions, only held Lance and promised him it’d be okay. Other nights, Lance showed up with dark eyes and bad intentions. When they fell into bed together, nothing else mattered for a little while. Keith wondered if it was the same for Lance, if the universe could end and he wouldn’t even care, if he stayed awake some nights just to listen to him breathe, if it meant something to him.

Like the very first time, it all came to a head after Lance spent most of the day trailing after and staring at Keith, who got fed up with the puppy dog eyes. “What is the problem Lance?” He demanded, whirling with his bayard still in his hand after calling off the training dummy. 

Lance rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, eyes finally darting to the floor rather than lingering on Keith. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

“It’s something.” Keith argued, “You’ve been quiet all day and you’re following me around like you’re afraid I’ll disappear.” That must have struck a nerve because Lance flinched. 

“Sorry.” He mumbled as he pushed himself away from the wall he’d been leaning against. 

Keith sighed then caught Lance before he could run, “I just want to know what’s wrong.”

“Is it a sympathy thing?” Lance asked. Keith stared at him, not fully understanding what he was talking about. “Do you just go along with whatever I want because you feel bad for me? You know it’s not just sex to me, right? I mean… I need you, Keith. This thing, I don’t know, it started off messy and meaningless, but then you vanished into thin air. It was like losing a part of myself, I’ve never felt like that. Then out here, it was just, you were… I thought,” Lance searched for the right words, hands fisting at his sides, “I thought maybe it meant something, like maybe I was special to you, or something. I hoped… but then you stopped and I don’t know what to think. I don’t want this to be a half assed, no strings attached, friends with benefits thing.”

Keith swallowed nervously, afraid to ask what it was Lance wanted, but his mouth was ahead of his brain, “What _do_ you want then?”

“You. All the time. In every sense. It’s insane.” Lance said with a laugh that sounded a little manic. “I want to hold your hand and shit. I want to just _be near you_ , like some love-sick girl, but I think that’s what I am. I think I fucking love you, holy shit.”

The realization apparently only just dawned on Lance because his eyes were wide and frantic. Keith mirrored his expression of disbelief because _love_ wasn’t a word he applied to many things, yet it sounded really good next to Lance’s name. Like maybe he loved Lance. Maybe Lance loved him. Lance kissed him and yeah, Keith definitely loved him. “Not here.” Keith managed to get out between kisses. Lance whined, but broke away panting to drag Keith along to his room. The second the doors closed behind them, Lance was on him again, lips hot on his neck. “Lance,” Keith complained, “you’ll leave a mark.”

“Don’t care. Then everyone will know you’re mine.” 

Keith flushed at that, “Hey,” he said, grabbing Lance’s attention, “I love you too, I think.”

Lance’s eyebrows furrowed, “You think?”

“I don’t know much about the L word.” Keith shrugged, looking away.

“The L word,” Lance parroted, “you say it like it’s a bad word.” He laughed.

“It is, but it doesn’t sound so bad when you say it.” Keith bit his lip, watched as Lance shook his head fondly. Lance wrapped an arm around Keith’s waist then lifted until Keith secured his legs around Lance’s hips. 

“Would you rather I say, ‘Keith I like-like you!’?” Lance asked as he carried him to bed, lying him down gently then crawling over top of him. “I really sound like a love-sick girl then, huh?” 

Keith wrinkled his nose, “Don’t do that.”

“I’ll just say that I love you then. It’s got a better ring to it anyway.” Lance grinned when Keith blushed all the way down his neck and to the tips of his ears. “I didn’t know you could get so red.” He mused then peppered Keith’s face in kisses. 

“Lance,” Keith complained, “is this what you’re going to be like from now on?” He asked.

“Oh yea, definitely. I’ve got a lot of lost time to make up for, baby.”

“I’m regretting this already.” Lance laughed then buried his face in Keith’s neck as he wrapped himself around him, effectively stilling him and holding him in place. 

“Tell me what you want then.” He said softly, breath tickling Keith. 

Keith slipped his hands under Lance’s shirt, trailing his fingers along his spine until he felt Lance shiver, “Just you.” He whispered. 

“You’ve got me, all of me, all the time.” Lance promised. 

“You’re a bad habit to have.” Keith said fondly, feeling Lance’s teeth against his shoulder in response.

“The worst,” Lance agreed as he sat up, “but you wouldn’t quit me anyway.” Keith couldn’t argue with that, so he kissed Lance instead, which shut him up all the same.


End file.
